


Closure under the Dark Sun

by Alloy_of_Iron



Category: Exalted, White Wolf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 20:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alloy_of_Iron/pseuds/Alloy_of_Iron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a chance meeting with a Deathknight revealed that his past wasn't as buried as he thought. Kerberos the Duelist now makes his way into the lands of the dead. </p>
<p>In order to get what he wants, the young Dawn will have to face his dark opposite and come out with his life and soul intact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closure under the Dark Sun

I sat in a crappy bar, on a crappy rough hewn barstool nursing a tankard of weak beer. I knew why I was here. I knew why I had been here for 3 days. The truth was I was afraid. Not afraid to die. Not really. I was afraid that I wouldn’t find her, I wouldn’t get to say goodbye, and that all this time it was just me… feeling hollow and alone. 

A woman in a intricately embroidered blue and gold tunic sat in the stool next to me facing outward, leaning her elbows on the bar. The barkeep set a drink down for her and then looked confused for a moment before turning to walk away. 

“Where are you going Karn? What purpose could this possibly serve?” She asked me, turning to her drink and brushing a few strands of her loosely braided, brown hair behind her ear. 

“Don’t call me that, it’s not my name. Not anymore. How did you find me Ashe?” I growled, but there was no heat in it. Just another empty gesture. I had known Ashe almost as long as I’d been Exalted. She was too, though her patron was different than mine.

“You wear a bright red longcoat and you’re the only one around here not covered in shit. Also you’ve got this whole forlorn wandering hero thing going on. Ilkah loves that stuff. She tipped me off.” I could feel her star flecked eyes on me. Studying me.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bribe pattern spiders to keep tabs on me?” She shrugged and kept silent for a time. I sighed and took another drink. 

“Do you remember the Deathknight I fought outside of Greyfalls? The one with the white robes and the straw hat? He knew about me. He knew who I was, and who I had been. He said he’d met my wife. I’m going to find her and then…” Ashe scoffed and interrupted me.

“Then what? You’ll be together again? Karn… She’s dead, the dead can’t love, not really. Your life will spill out in that dark place and you’ll never come out again.” She hissed the words.

“No, I don’t want us to be together again…” I placed a coin down on the bar and stood. “I know that’s impossible. I just want to say goodbye. If I can, I’ll send her to Lethe. Maybe she’ll start over, and things will work out for her better the second time around.”  
Gentle Ashe placed her hand on my arm and I felt a warm wave of essence flow from that spot through my body. It reminded me of better days, when I could be happy. When I was Karn Thrace, Husband and soldier. When I had something to fight for. Before I lost everything…  
I ripped my arm away, and she drew back as if struck. I stormed out of the bar and left her behind. I stalked into the night until I found my horse. Gentle Ashe walked from behind her as if she’d been there waiting for me. 

“Saturn end you Ashe! Leave me alone!” I roared but she just touched my face. This time the only warmth came from her skin, not her power.  
“Have you ever been to the Underworld before? It’s not like here.” Her eyes roamed my face as if committing it to memory. “The air is thick with ash and the smell of blood. You won’t be as strong there, the essence is… wrong.” She looked away from me, pulled her arms around herself and shuddered. “It’s a joyless place, but if you insist on going I can help you. I want to help you. For Annah.” She took my hand and placed a flat, polished stone in my hand. It was the color of the sky at noon on a clear day. It radiated the same kind of warmth I had felt earlier. 

“A hearthstone? What is this?” I turned the stone over in my hands.

“It’s a small shard of Creation, the living world will be here for you when you return. If you ever become hopeless just concentrate on the gem and it will remind you of everything you have waiting for you.” We stood there in silence for a moment, and then she was gone. It was like she had never been there at all. Even my memory of her blurred a bit. The only thing I remembered clearly were her eyes. Deep violet, flecked with shards of blue the same color as the stone that rested in my hands. I put the stone in my coat pocket and took my pack off of my horse, then I began to walk west. 

\-----

I felt it when I crossed over into the shadowlands. The air was thicker and the essence felt wrong. I had a momentary flash of a familiar man plunging a burning blade into dead gray earth and returning it to life with pure golden fire. I shook my head to clear the visions. I wasn’t that man anymore. I wasn’t the Sage of Blades. In the First Age, my exaltation had belonged to a great champion and hero. Now it belonged to a broken and pathetic man. 

I walked for what seemed like hours until I came to a bare tree standing in the middle of dry, gray scrub grass. The trunk and branches were white like bleached bone. Instead of leaves, tattered sections of rope hung from every branch, some longer than others. A few still had recognizable nooses tied at the end, though they were rare. This had been some kind of gallows for a village long vanished into the dust. The amount of death that had saturated the earth here had ripped a hole between this world and the lands below. Even though it was still full light out, the whole area had a pall of gloom over it. Like a great black cloud had slid over the sun. 

The only sound was the crunching of the dry grass under my boots as I walked to the trunk of the tree and laid my things down. I sat with my back against the tree and pulled my hood down over my eyes. I took a long time to fall asleep, but eventually I did. It was full of nightmares.  
\-----  
I stood amid a battlefield littered with corpses. The mercenaries were out of Nexus but everyone knew they were paid with imperial script. Every few years the Blessed Isle would test our defenses with disposable troops like this. Lookshy had yet to balk. This time though, the mercenaries had flanked us with some commandos. They sacked the outlying farming villages outside the walls. My unit was sent to respond… I outpaced them all. I knew how this nightmare went, I had no need to play it out again. 

I ran, throwing off my armor as I went, casting away my spear and sword. My longcoat flared behind me. This time would be different, I was Exalted now, Chosen of the Sun. I would cut them down before they touched her and she would smile and we would be happy again. Like every other time though, I was too late.

The mercenary loomed like a slavering beast, his arms too long and tipped with claws of black steel, spikes jutted out from his rusting metal skin. In one claw he held my wife. Her face speckled with blood, and her eyes staring off into nothing. No light left in them, no life in her breast. Her stomach was bare and painted a deep red by the blood running in rivulets from where iron claw pierced pale flesh.

I bellowed and raged, my hand flew out to the side but my sword wouldn’t come. The brute laughed, guttural and raw as he wiped the blood from his mouth. He turned and just walked away, laughing cruelly as he went. I could do nothing, it was like I was sinking in quicksand or running through waist deep water. I made it to her side and cradled her head. A silver pendant fell from around her neck and I wept. My wife’s eyes snapped into focus as she lunged for my throat, her mouth distended and filled with bloody fangs. 

\-----

I awoke with a start. The sun had gone down, and cold alien stars twinkled dimly in the sky. I heard a sound like a creaking rope and looked up, my hood falling away from my head. I wasn’t alone. The branches were filled with glowing, translucent people, hanging in nooses with broken necks. Some swayed almost serenely, while others jerked and gnashed their teeth in a silent, strangled cry. I slowly stood and backed away from the tree. The ground was now littered with bones, and my foot crushed an ancient skull into dust. All at once dozens of lifeless eyes turned towards me as if noticing me for the first time. For a moment I saw myself as they saw me. I was vibrant color against the drab blacks, lifeless grays. I was warmth amongst the cold, pitiless earth. I saw the hate and jealousy burn in their eyes. 

They charged me all at once, the nooses trailing behind them, making the gallows tree look like a tangled puppeteer. I danced back away from bloody claws and broken fanged maws. My hand shot out to my side and my sword came to my hand. It appeared in a flash of blinding sunlight, dripping morning dew and shining brightly. Duelist was a sword of fine steel and Orichalcum, forged in an age almost forgotten. It belonged to a great man, a man I used to be in another life but could no longer live up to. In the wan light of the underworld stars it almost seemed to glow, leaving a faint trail as it lashed out in a wide arc. 

The hungry ghosts recoiled in fear at this sunlight made solid. They vanished in a stuttering flashing light whenever my blade bit into their cold ghost-flesh, only to reappear a few feet away and lunge at me again. I was hurting them but they just kept coming. I was surrounded, only the quickness of my blade kept them back. I’ve fought more men at once, but these things were already dead, they would not tire or slip up. I had to end this quickly. A thought crossed my mind in a lightning bolt of inspiration. 

I made another glowing sweep of my sword and brought it low, using the momentum of the spin I shot into the air like a glowing comet. The dead claws grasped at me as I flipped over their slavering jaws and eyeless faces. I landed in a sprint and dodged through the ghostly hangmen’s ropes toward the tree. I trailed my own golden glow now, and without slowing I slammed my sword into the trunk of the gallows tree and the air around me erupted with shrieks and hideous moans. When the noise faded I was alone again. The branches were adorned with tattered rope that fluttered lightly in a icy breeze coming from some gods forsaken pit. Then I heard the clapping. 

The Endless Night’s Prophet. It was hard to tell his exact shape beneath his white funeral robes, but his face was bony and sharp, with a strange smile. The smile he wore now was jovial but at the same time, completely without warmth. 

“That was impressive. I was wondering if you’d figure out disrupting the fetter would buy you a reprieve. I’m terribly sorry I’m late in any case.” His hands spread in an almost apologetic gesture. I yanked Duelist out of the ghost-tree and let it return to the space between worlds. As it flashed into nothingness, I saw Prophet relax the tiniest bit.  
“I’m not here to entertain you Prophet. We have a deal, let’s get on with it.” His smile faded but only a fraction, he made a dramatic flaring bow and pointed the way. As we walked he prattled on.  
“My Mistress is excited to meet you. Not many Sun-Children come down this way. She does love your kind.” He was quite animated for a death-worshiper as he spoke. His hands accentuating his words and sweeping out to the cold realm around us.

“What task will she ask of me?” I didn’t miss the glint in his eye before he spoke. 

“Honestly, I haven’t the slightest idea.” He lied. “It’s not like she can’t send myself or others in her service to do what she needs done. Whatever it is, I’m sure someone as clever and strong as you will have no problem handling it.” He continued on extolling the virtues of the deathlands for quite some time while we walked, but at that point I basically tuned him out. I was in no mood to be toyed with and I had a feeling it had only begun.

\-----

We came to a towering palace that had been carved from the side of a small mountain. The valley below spiraled down into deep shadow. As we crossed a draw bridge made of bones and black metal that moaned in a mixture of pleasure and agony, I glanced over the edge and could barely make out titanic shapes roiling below in the gloom. Ghosts were everywhere, though these were considerably more friendly than at the Gallows-Tree. They were all attractive and pale, most wore little in the way of clothing. Their eyes were empty with no spark of life in them at all. I’d seen those the fair folk took with similar eyes. None of them paid us any mind. It would seem that they had seen things more terrible and enthralling than a Solar and a Deathknight walking side by side.

The palace was awe inspiring. The architecture was beautiful in detail and design, all sharp points and soft curves. Each of the crenellations was adorned with a trio of ghosts, women or young men from the sound of it. They were bound and molded to the towers, only bare chests, necks and heads visible. They sang a song that stirred my soul with disgust and longing. It was a heady experience. We entered the main gates and from there we went inside the palace proper. 

Everything was covered in red and black silks, the walls were carved with reliefs showing orgies of sex and blood. Each wall was a new grotesque. As I tore my eyes away we entered the audience chamber. A round room supported by pillars carved into nude figures of painful beauty. Hanging around their necks, like massive amulets, were ornate sarcophagi. Some were open, showing nothing within but blackness. Others were closed and the noises coming from them were very human.

“What are those?” I asked Prophet as we approached a throne upon a raised dais. 

“Pray you never find out Lawgiver.” All of the cold humor had drained from his face and a chill went down my spine. His eyes kept darting up at one of the open sarcophagi. They seemed to unnerve him, and frankly they felt wrong to me as well.  
We stopped in front of an empty throne. Surrounded by darkness and the soft noises from beyond the room, I felt a presence, and then more. A hand slid along my shoulder blades, and I felt hot breath in my ear. I spun but only saw a flash of red movement, the color of blood. When I turned back Prophet was kneeling and The Lover Clad in the Raiment of Tears was walking…no, slinking down the dais. 

She wore… very little. An open robe of deep crimson that flowed behind her like silk on glass. She was completely naked underneath. Her stark white skin was luminescent in the dim light of unseen torches. She was short, shorter than I expected, and her hair was a dark auburn that fell down her back, she had pleasantly curving hips and full breasts that she was not afraid of bearing. A knowing smile spread across her face as I took it all in. She was breathtaking. For a time, I forgot where I was. Her lush laughter brought me out of my revelry. I shook my head and noticed that Prophet had taken his leave. How long had I been there, just… gawking? 

“So you are Karn. No!… my apologies. Kerberos, is what you prefer yes?” She had a strange accent, though not unpleasant. It sounded empty more of an echo than an actual voice. 

“Yes my lady. The Endless Night’s Prophet said you could help me recover the ghost of my wife.” I blushed a bit, this was ridiculous. I was one of the Solar Exalted, given Creation to rule by the Unconquered Sun. I’d seen beautiful women before. I pushed the unwelcome heat out of my voice. The corner of her perfect mouth quirked up as she brought a hand to her lips. The Lover blew a kiss and a dimly glowing apparition formed of blue-white mist. My wife looked exactly as I had found her, her belly a torn mess of ghost-flesh and tattered clothing, her face lightly speckled with blood. She smiled sadly and reached out to me… Tears blurred my vision as I reached out to meet her outstretched hand. The figure vanished as soon as our hands met. My fingers were chilled to the bone and throbbed dully. 

“Annah…” I choked on the lump that formed in my throat.

“I can release her to you… I specialize in ghosts who died in cruel and horrific ways. I open my palace to them and give them an afterlife of pleasure and comfort. Your wife was in a slave caravan travelling north. I cannot abide the slavery of the dead, so I do what I can to free those poor souls my servants come across.” She was at my level now, her head barely even with my chest. Her hands slid beneath my jacket and played across my chest. 

“Please…” My voice caught in my throat, I was still staring with an outstretched hand at the place my wife had been a moment ago. The Lover rested her head against me and sighed.

“ I know you wouldn’t pledge yourself to me, so I won’t even ask that of you. However I have a great many enemies that I cannot act directly against.” She stepped back and began languidly climbing the stairs. Her robe dipped so far down I could see her slender back all the way down to the top of her hips as they swayed up the stairs toward her throne. My hand fell to my side as my eyes were drawn to her.

“The greatest of these is the Mask of Winters. That brute who rules over Thorns. He threatens my territory, and I think threatens your homeland as well.” She slid into her seat and deliberately crossed her legs. I averted my eyes a little too slowly. 

“One of his Deathknights has been making trouble for my outriders. Those that bring wayward souls in need of succor to me. I want her dead. If you succeed in this task, I shall release your wife to you to do as you wish. So enemy of my enemy… “ She stretched and ran her hand through her hair, slowly down her body and into her lap. Eyes that looked too much like my wife’s locked with mine. “Are we friends?”

“We have a deal.” The words scraping their way from my dry throat. 

\-----

“Come Come…This way Dawn-Child.” I followed a hideous wretch of a ghost down into a deep cavern that echoed with distant screaming. When I left the Lover, Prophet was waiting for me. He knew the job and offered to send me with a guide to get me to Thorns and back quickly. I admit. I should have been more wary but being in the presence of The Lover was almost intoxicating. My mind was just cleaning the last of the cobwebs out when I realized the wretch was leading me deeper into the earth. 

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, my voice strong again. The old ghost visibly cringed, like I had cursed in a temple. 

“Not so loud fool! You wear the wrong brand to be unmolested in the Labyrinth, so I suggest you keep your words low! There are things down here which never lived and would make a quick meal of you. “ He shuffled closer and in a craggy whisper continued. 

“You want to get to Thorns yes? In the Sunlands the trip would take you weeks on horseback, a month or more on foot. Here, into the Labyrinth silly things like distance and time have no meaning. If you follow me we can get you to Thorns and back in mere days. Eh?” He quietly cackled and looked pleased with himself. Ugly and Crazy was always a winning combination. 

We trudged downward for endless hours, we never slowed and we never stopped until we entered a great vaulting hall. It went on seemingly forever into the darkness. I got impressions of gigantic structures in the shadow but couldn’t make out any detail. This place felt wrong. The essence buzzed in my soul. I felt like we were in the presence of something incredibly malevolent. Several times I heard whispers in the dark, only to turn and find nothing. Looking to my guide I noticed his form had blurred a bit, it was as if an unfelt wind blew him toward some point in the distance. 

I reached to the side intending to summon my blade, but as I did so the old ghost’s hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist. His eyes pleaded with me to stop. I saw madness born of fear in his face. I slowly lowered my arm and nodded. Instead I reached into my breast pocket and found the stone Gentle Ashe had given me. Even in this unholy place it radiated warmth. That small touch of Creation centered me. I would have to thank her when…if I ever returned. Fortunately we returned to the slightly less horrific tunnels that honeycombed the walls of that terrible cathedral. The ghost’s shape solidified and he seemed to walk a little quicker. I didn’t complain because I was ready to put that place behind me, far, far behind me. 

Sometime later, we came upon a strange procession of robed monks each carrying chains that bound another. This silently thrashing creature howled wordlessly and had the look of a feral beast about it, though it appeared to have been human once. Indeed it wore the same robes as its fellows, albeit stained with blood and torn in places.

“Spectre. Sometimes a ghost goes mad. Starts killing and devouring his fellows. If it can be done, they’re captured and brought here… to that..that place below.” My guide stammered, wringing his hands and glancing behind him.

“What happens there?” I asked my eyes meeting with the bound spirit’s for a moment before it resumed its wrathful flailing. 

“It’s thrown into the Well of Oblivion. Where all things are destined to die, forever being torn apart until only nothingness remains.” My guide said like he was quoting from scripture. I pulled my hood and jacket closer as we marched through the forlorn halls of black stone. 

Though it seemed much longer, we emerged into the shadowland around Thorns after only a day’s travel. I was happy to be out of that bleak place, even if only partially so. My guide showed me the way but refused to leave the tunnel into the Labyrinth. We arranged to meet here in three days time. If I couldn’t do the Lover’s job in that time, I would have to find my own way back. 

I found my way past the gates and made my way into the alleyways of the City. Thorns was worse than I had imagined it would be. Subdued and fearful in the shadow of the grotesque corpse fortress, known as Juggernaut. I stood in shadow as I watched a stilted patrol of dead men march down the street in rusting armor. The living huddled together in fear and scurried off the street to make way for the soldiers. Thorns had been a big trading partner, if not exactly an ally, of Lookshy. When word came that an army of the dead had risen and sacked the city, it was too late for our forces to do anything about it. We had sent agents into the city before, we knew the general condition but seeing it at this level, in the dirt and mud. It made me angry. A cruel anger that made me want to make everyone responsible pay in the most agonizing way possible. My gloves creaked as I tightened my hands into fists. I think I would have attacked that passing patrol if I hadn’t been interrupted first. 

“You don’t look like you’re from around here. We don’t get a lot of tourists so who are you?” The voice was gruff, like someone who had done a lot of screaming lately. I slowly turned until I faced the crossbow bolt inches away from my face. The man behind it was my age, maybe younger, but his skin was weathered and his dark hair showed flecks of gray near his temples. 

“I’m just looking for someone.” I raised my hands in a nonthreatening way. “Maybe you could help. The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile?” Was it the smartest move to advertise why I was here? Maybe not. I had a feeling, however, that this guy was part of the resistance movement here. He had a heavy scarf around his neck probably used for covering his face. The crossbow he was holding on me was a watchman’s weapon, the old city crest on the stock was clearly visible to my eyes even though he had taken pains to cover it in pitch. He held it properly and it didn’t waver or shake. Yeah this guy was resistance. 

“What do you want with that butcher?” His eyes hardened like steel and he snarled as he said it. Bingo. The crossbow never wavered as his grip tightened.

“I’m here to kill her.” I looked him in the eyes, matching his gaze. The crossbow lowered just a fraction and he stood up a little straighter. 

“You don’t look like an assassin.” He said, looking me up and down, his eyes lingering on my old service blade jutting out from under my coat.  
“Today I am. Can you help me?” I lowered my arms slowly. He stared at me just a little longer before dropping his crossbow and sliding it under his coat. He turned and gestured for me to follow.

After a few switchbacks and quick turns, I was almost completely lost. Then we stopped in a lane behind an old townhouse that had been gutted by fire during the invasion.  
“Do you think you could find this place again?” He asked as he scanned the alleyway. 

“Honestly I doubt it, You brought me here a pretty convoluted way.” I lied, but it wouldn’t do to spook him just yet.

“Good.” Satisfied that we were alone in the shadow of the twisted ruins, he knocked on an old cellar door. The knock was rhythmic, but stilted, a pattern of some kind. It was returned and the doors were flung wide. He went down into the doorway and I followed. Behind us two equally massive and scarred men slammed and locked the doorway behind us.  
The basement was simple. Just a big room filled with barrels and crates. This one also happened to be filled with stockpiles of weapons and about a dozen angry Thornites. Most of them were military or watch members, judging by the way they stood and regarded me. They rested their hands on sword pommels and leather wrapped cudgels hanging from their belts. 

“He says he’s here to kill the Maiden.” Gruff said. A few of the assembled fighters laughed, some swore. It was a bitter laugh. I tried not to take offence. 

“What in the hells makes you think your balls are big enough for that job redcoat?” The voice came from a tall, muscular woman with short hair; a nasty scar ran down her neck and disappearing under her collar. 

“You’ll have to take my word for it. I’m not just a civilian, I was a soldier in Lookshy once.” I regarded them, I wasn’t sure where the people of Thorns sat in regards to Anathema. So I was hesitant to reveal the source of my confidence so soon.

“Lookshy runs a tight army sure, but she’s a fucking monster. The only reason she hasn’t cut down every man, woman, and child left alive in this city is because she would get bored hacking up corpses that didn’t scream.” The woman slammed a knife into the top of a crate that was being used as a table. Everything on it jumped. I sighed and held out my hands in a placating gesture. 

“Listen, I’m not here to cause trouble for any of you. I just want some information. My thoughts are, if I kill her, things get a little easier for you around here. If she kills me? Well, you don’t know me, so you keep on doing whatever you want. Your man was right, I’m not from around here. I need to know the lay of the land, where she stays, where she hunts. I know you keep track of that kind of stuff. You’d be fools not to.” They shifted around and exchanged glances. An older man stepped forward. He walked with a limp and was missing 3 fingers on his left hand. He was built like a warrior who had retired from soldiering long ago. 

“What assurances do you give that when she defeats you, and she will, you won’t tell her of our help?” His voice was steady, but these people lived on the ragged edge. They fought where they could, and hid the rest of the time, they probably had warrens filled with men, women, and children dependant on the hope… the hope that they could win someday. I had made my decision. Even if they thought me a demon, I was a demon with a cause they could get behind. I sighed and stood straight, slowly spreading my hands wide. 

“I am Kerberos, known as the Duelist. Chosen of the Dawn. I will not fall, and she could not break me if I did.” I saw the light in the room change quality, the shadows ran from me. Eyes widened and caught the golden reflection of the eight pointed sunburst shining on my forehead.  
They backed up, some stumbling over barrels and their own feet. Everyone but the old man, in his eyes I saw what I wanted. Hope. 

“You’ve met the Exalted before?” I asked him, curious.  
“I have. I don’t expect you to solve all of our problems, but I think you can solve this one after all. The Maiden spends her days overseeing the docks where our people slave away repairing the damage the dead army has done. She’ll be eager to break the monotony, I’m sure.” I gripped his forearm in a soldier’s handshake and met his eyes. A grim smile creased his weathered face.

“Thank you, my friend.” To his credit, his eyes only flicked up to my caste mark once. 

\-----

Imagine what a normal dock smells like, now fill the harbor with the corpses of your friends and family and then throw in some undead horrors to scuttle around in the filth. That is what the Thorn docks smelled like. Death and sorrow. 

One author of that sorrow lounged on a pile of shipping crates arranged into a vaguely chair-like shape. She bounced her leg in a bored manner, completely immune to the suffering around her. She was as pale as the Lover, with a shock of long white hair that flowed over her shoulders. She was wearing a black leather coat that splayed down to her ankles with a black steel breastplate over it. She was covered in stylized bones, from her greaves and pauldrons, to the skeletal arms across her chest. She certainly took the title Deathknight dress code literally.

I was on the roof of a building overlooking the docks, I had been watching her lounge and give orders for going on an hour now. She was cruel and efficient, but she seemed incredibly bored. A slave tripped and dumped a load of timber into the bay. She perked up and gestured to her two zombie attendants to retrieve the man. His screams as they dragged him to her little throne echoed into the streets. He pleaded and wept, threw himself at her feet and begged for his life. In response the Maiden just smiled, and I saw that her title was apt. 

“Tear him apart… Slowly.” She sat back onto her perch and watched intently. The zombies picked up the man and began to pull his arms in different directions. His moans were low and panicked. 

I dropped to the street and began to stalk toward the tableau. My boot falls rang out even over the screams of the slave. I fed my power into the world around me and felt my anima rise and lash out. Fingers of living sunlight played against rotting wood and damp timber. It coiled around me in a swirling bonfire. Her zombies stopped pulling and looked at me with slack jaws. The brilliance of my power granting them enough of their former humanity to do one thing… Run in terror. They dropped the man and scrambled to get away, their jerky movements causing them to trip over themselves and fall into the bay. Some of the slaves ran too, some fell to their knees in awe. Amidst the chaos, the Maiden sat up, a manic grin on her face. 

“Finally! I have been dying of this drudgery day in and day out.” She seemed almost giddy at my approach. The skin of her forehead cracked and began to weep with thick black blood. My caste mark was a perfect counterpoint to my own. Both eight pointed sun bursts, mine a brilliant glittering gold, and hers an oozing viscous black.

“Well I hope you aren’t disappointed.” I raised my hand and summoned Duelist. It’s familiar weight settled into my hand and I brought it up into a fencer’s salute and then pointed it at her chest in a challenge. 

She raised an eyebrow and laughed, like I had done something genuinely amusing. She lazily waved her hand in a crescent around her. Wherever her hand swept, it was as if the air was wounded. At the nadir of her arc, she plunged her hand into the wound and ripped forth the largest sword I have ever seen. It was easily 7 feet long, and almost two feet wide. The blade curved like an oversized falchion, the edge sweeping back to a wicked point. As the light of my anima danced across the flat black metal, I saw faces writhing beneath the surface. Mouths wide in soundless howls and screams. I cocked my head and snorted at the display. 

“Well. That’s certainly one way to go about it.” I charged her and she leapt to meet me, a exultant yell on her lips. 

Our swords met in mid swing with a terrible sound. Black and golden lightning played along the edges as they ground together, both made of indestructible metal, neither giving way. The essence shockwave cracked the wooden planks beneath us and caused foul sludge to spray into the air. 

Suddenly she pulled back and I stumbled forward a fraction of an inch only to be met with a gauntleted fist to the side of my head. She hit like a charging Yeddim. I saw black stars for a fleeting moment before I slid out of the way as a shadow fell over me. She slammed into the already damaged dock where I was a split second before, sending splinters flying in every direction. 

“Who sent you? So I know who to thank for the dance.” She sneered and swung the titanic blade in pendulous arcs with one hand. I held my arm out straight and pointed Duelist at her again. I said nothing. 

“You aren’t local. We would have met sooner than this. No one just wanders into Thorns aimlessly.” Without missing a beat she came at me with blinding speed. Her footfalls left black fire licking the tortured wood and boiling off the moisture into a sickly green haze. 

I side-stepped her lunge. Using Duelist, I redirected her blade and brought my shoulder into her gut. She cried out as the air was ripped from her lungs and her hair continued forward to cover her face. Our essence warred with one another around us. Both repulsed by the other, but forced together into a burning inferno of golds and blacks, reds and sickly purples. Suddenly she grabbed the back of my head and inhaled sharply, smelling me. It made my skin crawl. I threw her off of me and she landed on her feet, skidding to a stop a few yards away. Her hair covered her face but for her dark eyes and red lips pulled back into a lupine grin. 

“It was the whore then! You have her stench on you still.” She swept her hair back as the blood from her caste mark streaked down her face. “Oh my master will be pleased to hear that! It’ll mean war. Glorious War!” 

“Maybe your neighbors just don’t like your attitude.” I dashed forward and spun, kicking her blade out of the way and bringing duelist across her breastplate. A bright line of silver marred the otherwise black metal and one of the skeletal arms flew off into the rubble.  
She shrieked and brought up a armored knee to catch me in the stomach, but I danced back, I wasn’t expecting her to continue upward… She threw herself backwards with the momentum of her kick and brought her other leg up catching me in the jaw with her boot. She completed her mid-air flip and as soon as she touched down she launched herself at me bringing her massive blade down in a vicious overhead arc.

I dropped Duelist, banishing it in a flash of light and brought my hands together in a clapping motion. They landed on either side of her blade, though her momentum slammed the edge down into my shoulder. Pain exploded across my body and I fell to one knee. She leaned forward onto the hilt of her sword and pushed the edge deeper still, I ground my teeth and snarled in pain. My head was filled with anguished screams of the damned souls trapped in her sword; I added my own to the cacophony. My power guttered and dimmed.

She leaned over bringing her face close to mine and pressed her lips to a small trickle of blood that had started to flow her gauntlet had slammed into my face. It was a startlingly gentle thing. With everything I had left I pushed her off of me and collapsed in the buckling timbers, my foot dangled into the murky waters below as I gasped for air. I couldn’t feel my left arm, and my vision was graying around the edges. I was losing a lot of blood from the gash in my shoulder. I felt heavy.  
The Maiden walked casually to a mostly intact shipping crate nearby. She leaned on her sword and rested her chin on the back of her hands. 

“I haven’t had a fight like that for a long time. It feels good you know? Of course you know how dull it can be without someone to challenge you.” She took a finger and ran it along the blood dripping from her blade and brought it to her lips. She closed her eyes and a soft moan escaped her lips. It was like she was sampling a fine wine. 

“Of course I’m going to have to kill you. You damaged my armor. I’ll need some new forearm bones. I think yours will do nicely. It’s a shame I won’t be able to keep you alive while I’m removing them.” She looked contented almost like a young noblewoman lounging around after a feast. 

Something was wrong. I couldn’t draw any essence, I was tapped out. That’s when I noticed the sun had gone down. During the day a shadowland is in Creation, you can come and go as you please, but at night? At night a shadowland falls into the Underworld. If you cross the border at night you go deeper into the realm of the dead. I couldn’t draw power here. It was hopeless. Gentle Ashe was right. This foolish quest accomplished nothing. I closed my eyes and said a prayer to my wife. I apologized for failing her, and that I would be joining her soon.

The Maiden splashed down into the pit with me. Fetid water spraying my face. My limbs felt like lead and my head was foggy. She stood over me, her legs straddling my waist. That massive, dark blade hung in the air above me. I gazed into the moaning faces dancing across the metal. She stabbed downward between heartbeats, so fast I didn’t notice it had happened until I heard a sound like shattering stone. 

A blinding flare of golden light exploded from my chest and sent the Abyssal careening out of the pit and into the wreckage of the docks around us. My body arched as if struck by lightning. My wounds felt hot. The edges danced with a golden-orange fire, sealing the ragged gashes. I was flush with power like I had been newly Exalted.

Thunder crashed through gold-tinged clouds, The Maiden scrambled out of the wreckage as I pulled myself from the broken beams and muck soaked debris. I straightened my back with a loud pop and tested my wounded shoulder. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. My caste mark blazed. I pulled the shattered remains of the hearthstone Ash had given me from my breast pocket. My blood had soaked into runes carved almost imperceptibly into the surface. A golden glow was fading away leaving them looking burnt out. 

“Oh thank the titans below!” The Deathknight was on her feet again, cackling with excitement. 

Her laughter was cut short as a burning blade fell from the golden roil in the sky, spearing into the debris at her feet. The Maiden jumped back as the sword evaporated into essence. Her eyes snapped to mine, and then up to the clouds. Swords of all shapes and sizes fell in streaks of light. Slamming into the ground and vanishing a moment later. She growled and dodged through the deadly rain, sweeping her sword for my neck. I snatched a blade from the ground before it could dissipate. I slammed it into hers with such force that she was knocked off balance. My weapon shattered into a million points of light. I grabbed another, a massive double edged thing with a wavy blade. It crashed into her ribs with a sickening crunch. He armor crumpled where it struck. That sword too burst into motes. She flew, crashing into a dock crane, causing it to teeter and fall. She stood up panting and coughing up blood. Her weapon gone and her armor was dented inward in a great wedge. She ripped it off with a scream; her coat was slick with her blood. 

“I…am… so glad… you aren’t dead yet. “ She panted. She leapt into the air spinning in a tight spiral before slamming a fist into my chest. The force of the blow rocked me back a few paces, but I caught a falling blade and brought it down on her forearm biting into her flesh and nearly severing it. She reared back and howled, not in pain, but in anger. Her sword came spinning through the air towards her. In a single smooth motion she caught it and brought it down on her injured arm, cleaving it off and sending it and a spray of blood into the murk. I felt what little blood I had left drain from my face.

She came at me, dragging the blade’s edge along the ruins of the dock, the timbers buckled and snapped. She twisted violently, using her whole body to swing it around at me. I jumped out of the way and snatched a new brand as it fell, lashing out at her exposed neck. She threw her shoulder up into my blade, it burst into light when it struck her pauldron. 

Her weapon was clumsy with only one hand to grip it and still she brought it up for another overhead chop, screaming manically. I rushed forward, with one hand I grabbed the wrist of her sword arm, and with the other I sank Duelist into her exposed stomach. There was a loud clatter as her daiklave fell from her grasp. She wriggled closer, sliding more of my blade into her guts and through her back. Her skin and blood sizzled on the holy metal. Our faces were inches apart now. She was panting and her eyes were bright with pain and mania through the mask of blood she wore. 

“That… was a… good fight.” She stammered out. Her anima faltered for a moment, only to explode forth in a torrent of screaming black specters. They howled into the sky trumpeting the fall of the Maiden of the Mirthless Smile. She screamed out her life with them, and when they faded, she slumped and slid off of my sword into a lifeless heap. No caste mark bled or oozed on her forehead any longer. 

I took a leaden step back. The storm of swords faded as my anima burned low and for just a moment a beam of true sunlight fell on me, before being swallowed up by the underworlds overcast skies. I numbly stepped over her body, wary that at any moment she would lunge at me. She never did. I still see her lifeless eyes in my nightmares sometimes. I bent down wearily and took up her accursed great sword, dismissing my own. I thought to present it as proof to the Lover in exchange for my wife’s shade. A wave of fatigue and nausea washed over me and I teetered and fell as I was swallowed up by darkness. 

\-----

I was back in my village on that day. I stood in the same square where it happened. The sky was the overcast sky of the Underworld and storm clouds roiled and bucked. I heard a snapping and squishing sound behind me. I turned around and there was my wife, devouring a figure in a red coat. She tore at his throat so vigorously that his arm flopped lifelessly to the ground. A small silver pendant fell from his hand, the same one I had given my wife on our wedding night. 

The thing in the shape of my wife looked up and cocked its head at me in confusion. It stalked forward and raised its bloody hand to my cheek. I took her hand and brought her close to me. She didn’t struggle. I looked down at her and was met with the heavy eyes of the Lover Clad. I pushed her away in surprise but it was my wife again. This time no confusion showed on her face as she lunged forward, claws tearing at my chest.

\-----

“He’s waking up.” Someone said. I cracked my eyes and saw that it was Gruff. I was back in their secret clubhouse on a pallet covered with blankets. My shirt and jacket were missing and my shoulder was heavily bandaged. 

“We watched you fight. It was the most terrifying thing I had ever seen. When you fell we thought you were dead.” He said, his voice a mix of awe and fear. 

“Thank… Thank you.” My throat was raw and dry. The older man walked over and placed a hand on my bandage-free shoulder, meeting my eyes and nodding. 

“You were truly amazing. We brought you back here before the Mask’s other minions could respond. They were sluggish, I think you shocked everyone with that little stunt you pulled.” He said with a smile.

“I shocked myself to be honest.” I tried to sit up onto my elbows, which was I assure you, a complete and painless success. No, Really. “Why did you come for me? You didn’t owe me anything.”

“Truthfully, after watching you fight. Our priority was getting you away from the necrosurgeons. The last thing we needed was a zombie with those skills running around. You being alive was a bonus.” The tall scarred woman said. The scar bunched around her jaw line when she smiled.  
“How long was I out?” I asked rubbing the side of my head, and wincing at the tenderness.

“Not long, a day or so.” Gruff replied. He got up and grabbed a package wrapped in a dirty looking cloth from the top of a nearby barrel.

“We had this repaired and washed as best we could.” He unwrapped it and presented my longcoat, the shoulder had been sewn up with sturdy thread and it no longer had buckets of blood staining it. 

“Thank you. I mean that. Thank you.” They helped me to my feet and I shrugged a tunic and the coat on slowly, very slowly.

“Don’t forget your trophy.” The woman brought me a bundle as tall as she was. It was the Maiden’s daiklave. I touched it and concentrated for a moment. It vanished in a swirl of shadow. I could hear the faint susurrus of the souls forged into its metal, but quickly blocked them out. 

“Thank you Kerberos. You’ve done more for us than you can know. You’ll always have a place here if you ever pass through again. Though… I wouldn’t recommend it for awhile.” The old man chuckled and lead me to the doorway. I shook his hand again and threw the dirty cloth around my shoulders and walked into the night.

\-----

My guide was where I left him, hiding in a small cave that lead to the tunnels filled with unimaginable horrors. The whispers of the blade I had bound myself to were almost deafening while within the dread cathedral of the abyss, but we soon found our way out. 

The Lover’s palace was exactly as I had left it. Echoing with soft moans and agonized wails and filled with empty eyed ghosts who paid me no mind. The whole scene struck me as needlessly contrived now. The horrors and pleasures of the underworld held not the slightest appeal to me any longer. 

The Endless Night’s Prophet stood waiting within the main gates. He looked me up and down and nodded, seemingly pleased with something.  
“The Maiden was a terrifying combatant, and a supernal swordswoman. I must admit I had my doubts as to your chances. I half expected you to return as a more permanent resident.” 

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m tired of this place.” I growled, pushing past him. He chuckled to himself and followed. 

We entered the throne room to find the Lover Clad in a Raiment of Tears being pawed and caressed by a quartet of ghosts. Rather than being erotic, it made my skin crawl. She noticed us after a moment and her ghostly paramours floated away into the shadows of the room. Their heavy, hungry eyes watched us from those dark corners.

“It’s done.” I called the Maiden’s sword from Elsewhere and bore the rush of whispers as it formed in my hand. I broke my bond to it immediately and there was silence in my head again. I handed the slab of Soulsteel to Prophet who held it like a snake that may bite at any moment. 

“Fantastic! I never doubted you for a second. You had the smell of someone who would do anything for love.” She descended the stairs. Instead of the robe she had worn before, she was now in a dress of actual flowing blood. It hugged every inch of her and somehow struck me as being more revealing than when she had been almost entirely nude. However this time I didn’t gawk, I didn’t lose myself in her presence. I saw her for what she was. She was a dead thing, playing at being alive. Her eyes were empty, her skin was cold and perfect like marble not true flesh. The cruelty behind her smile was no longer hidden from me by a bare breast and the curve of her naked hip. 

“I appreciate the faith your worship. Now what of our bargain?” She seemed a little put off by my lack of interest, though she seemed to brush it aside and smiled. She drew forth a silver pendant and handed it to me. When I touched it, I smelled the flowers my wife would wear in her hair, and I felt the summer sun prickle my skin as we lay in the grass and made love. It was the marriage gift I had given my wife so long ago. 

“Her soul is bound to this fetter. You may do with it as you please. I release her to you. You have done my will and vexed my enemies, and for that I honor our bargain and give you leave to enter my kingdom at your leisure.” She turned away from me and I watched her go. 

“Thank… Thank you.” I turned to leave as she found her seat once more, the blood-dress flowed from her body and the amorous ghosts returned to their queen. 

“I will see you again Duelist. Do try not to die before then. Though I suppose that doesn’t really matter. One way or another you’ll find your way back here.” I looked back, but she was no longer paying any attention to me. 

“I pray you’re mistaken.” I took my leave. 

Epilogue

When I awoke under the gallows-tree this time I found Gentle Ashe waiting for me with crossed arms and a pair of horses. She smiled when I looked up at her and she wrapped her arms around me in a mighty hug. It made my shoulder burn but I didn’t care. It felt good to be among the living again. 

“I’m so happy to see you back!” She helped me up and a look of concern crossed her face as I winced. 

“It’s really good to see you Ashe… I wanted to thank you. You saved my life back there.” She gave me a strange look and turned to get the horses. 

“Twice, but who’s counting.” Her laugh was musical and sounded alien and strange. I loved it. “Now come on, let’s get out of here and into the sun.” I couldn’t argue with that and soon we were back in that crappy town, with the crappy bar. This time it looked like heaven. 

“Did you find what you were looking for Karn?” She asked as we sat at the bar with a pair of drinks flavored like ambrosia. 

“I did, though not without some difficulty. I almost died.” I pulled out the shards of the hearthstone she had given me. They were cold and lifeless now, runes burned black into dull facets. “Thank you.” I offered it to her. She turned up her nose at it.

“Venus’ silky sheets! Kerberos what did you do to this thing!” She touched one and it crumbled to dust. She laughed again. 

“Guess I was a little harsh on it.” I laughed with her. 

“So what now? What will you do now that you have her back?” Her tone slowly shifted to a somber note. Almost Like she was expecting bad news. 

“I’m taking her home. Would you like to come along?” She smiled again and we finished our drinks, rose and made our way outside. We swung up onto our horses and headed south. After a moment without looking at me Ashe spoke.

“You know… I’m glad you had the balls for that job after all.” My head snapped around and for just fleeting second I thought I could see a sliver of scar bunching around her jaw when she smiled.


End file.
